


Stone-Cursed

by KittenKakt



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Jaskier is a Good Liar, M/M, Sexual Harassment, True Love's Kiss, Turned to Stone, but not?, by the OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenKakt/pseuds/KittenKakt
Summary: A basic stone curse; it makes the target into a completely impervious statue. No amount of magic or brute force can degrade or shatter it. Stone curses are relatively easy to cast and therefore relatively easy to break. All the cursed needs is a kiss from their True Love and they're back to normal, and quite angry about their ordeal. However, one doesn't have to worry about that with witchers...
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 293





	Stone-Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at a Halloween-ish fic. Thank you so much for Amariahellcat for being a beta and cheerleader.
> 
> If anyone is concerned about dubious consent, sexual harassment/coersion, or the possibility of cheating, please check the end notes for a spoiler summary.

It is raining, because of course it is raining. Pouring down in sheets and soaking him to the bone. Jaskier trudges up the road to the menacing manor on the edge of town. Spooky, imposing, lit sconces despite the rain and wind? Definitely the sorcerer's house. 

He knocks once, and receives no answer. That's fine, the servants probably fled to town when the castle dungeons were cracked open and their inhabitants freed. From the stories he heard from the former prisoner, Jaskier would've taken his chances and run then as well. Jaskier tries the door and finds it unlocked, so he lets himself in.

The house is well appointed, stylish lamps lighting the hall; whether with oil or magic, Jaskier couldn't say. Along each corridor there are tasteful hangings, fashionable furniture, and expensive rugs, which are collecting the water dripping from Jaskier's sodden clothes. Every surface is glittering with something gold or encrusted with gemstones. He has been in countless houses of this sort and makes an educated guess in the direction of the study. He hears shuffling noises and pops his head in, finding a large library with what looks like an office at one end. Near the door at the other end, there is a life-size statue that would probably be better suited for a garden.

A well-dressed man is gathering and sorting papers that are scattered throughout the room, by someone casting Aard perhaps. He is talking to himself, hoping out loud that the rare maps and parchments he is picking up have not suffered damage.

"Ah, hello," Jaskier says to the figure, "you wouldn't happen to be the lord of this manor would you?"

The man stands up abruptly, carefully setting down the papers in his hand. He is a reasonably attractive older gentleman, with salt-and-pepper hair and an angular face. He is wearing tens-of-thousands of crowns worth of jewelry; amulets, rings, cuffs, and a large, glittering emerald dangling from one ear. It matches his eyes. The textiles he is wearing are also expensive, fully lined and edged in gold embroidery.

"I am," he says, looking Jaskier over carefully, evaluating him. Jaskier looks pathetic, shivering in his dripping doublet and trousers, expensive and now, likely ruined from the mud and rain. He trekked up here on foot and it's plain to see he was not properly outfitted. His boots have mud in them. His hair is plastered to his forehead, despite his efforts to sweep it back. His host decides Jaskier is completely harmless.

"Forgive me, there has been a great deal of upset in my house tonight," he gestures around at the library. "I am Adrin Vyddieral, is there any reason you sought me out?" 

Adrin smiles indulgently and flicks off a spell. Jaskier is hit with a warm gust of air, drying his clothes and warming the chill from his bones. Jaskier looks down and notices the mud and debris are also gone. "Thank you so much for that kind sir, your skill is truly impressive. I did not anticipate the weather to turn so quickly when I set out from the inn. It seems I also have some good fortune as I did not anticipate finding such a talented sorcerer at the end of my journey. Oh, let me not be rude. I am Julian, a humble travelling bard, at your service." He gives a small bow.

Adrin looks him over, considering the information. "And what could I do for you, Julian the bard?" his tone indicating that he has several ideas as to how they might spend a stormy evening together.

Jaskier adjusts his clothes, smoothing down the font of his newly-clean doublet, and Adrin watches his hands. Jaskier smiles shyly at him; he wants to be friendly after all. Now that he's dry, Jaskier doesn't feel bad about sauntering across the room before answering, "I was actually hoping to find out what happened to my employer. He left me in town without an advance to take a room for the night."

"That is short-sighted of him," Adrin observes. "How unfortunate the owner of the inn would not let you play in exchange for a bed for the night."

"Alas, my employer is an unfeeling boor and broke my lute not three days ago because the tune I was writing was not to his liking. First, he hires me to write songs of his exploits and then he breaks my poor lute, which is my means of supporting myself, when an unfinished chorus does not suit his tastes." Jaskier shakes his head sadly, "I liked that lute."

Adrin rubs a hand along Jaskier's back comfortingly. Jaskier shuffles closer and allows himself to be comforted. "He has treated you terribly."

"He often does," Jaskier comments, curling in on himself. "However, since I need help and financial assistance until such time as I arrive at a large enough settlement to support myself, I find myself trapped in the current arrangement."

"That's awful," Adrin says sympathetically, wrapping his arm fully around Jaskier and pulling him close. Jaskier nods in agreement, cheek close enough to feel the silk of Adrin's coat. "What makes you think you would find him out here?"

"When we got to town earlier today, some farmhand was demanding that someone go find his sister. Sounded like she ran off with some man her brother doesn't approve of if you ask me. But, he flashed a purse of gold and my employer, being a witcher, took the gold and the contract and ordered me to stay." Jaskier sighs and leans against Adrin's chest. "It was getting to be late and the innkeeper was getting agitated and people were talking about how he probably stole the money and looked in my direction, so I figured I should take my chances."

"It's a good thing you came here then," Adrin says in a comforting tone and rubbing gentle circles on Jasker's back. "The townfolk can get violent and you don't have a way to protect yourself. You are completely safe under my roof."

"That's very kind of you."

"And you are welcome to my protection as long as you are here as my companion." Adrin runs a gentle hand through Jaskier's hair. "I'm not trying to frighten you, but the news I have might be quite shocking. I am afraid the witcher did show up here earlier today and caused quite a mess. I was forced to incapacitate him, permanently. I doubt you will miss the mutant, but I don't want to cause you any distress about losing your situation." He tips Jaskier's chin up, "I am a powerful man and I can take care of everything you need."

"He's gone?" Jaskier asks, sounding hopeful.

"Not precisely. He's over there," Adrin turns Jaskier to look at the statue, "completely harmless now. Go and have a look."

Jaskier hesitantly walks across the room until he stands in front of the statue. It's Geralt, face permanently set into a determined grimace and formed out of flawless white marble, perfectly smooth and completely uniform in color. Jaskier finds it disconcerting to look into his eyes and not find their golden warmth looking back. He brushes his hand over one cold cheek, then touches Geralt's hair, finding it as solid and unforgiving as the rest of him.

Jaskier slowly circles the statue that was formerly his witcher, trailing his hand along and feeling the familiar texture of his armor, now hard and cold. He glances over at Adrin, who is picking up a few more parchments and keeping an idle eye on Jaskier's exploration. When his back fully turns, Jaskier places a quick kiss to the nearest part of Geralt, the nape of his neck where his hair parted to reveal a sliver of skin. Geralt's skin is warm beneath Jaskier's lips. He moves fast enough Adrin does not notice and Jaskier returns to carefully examining Geralt in amazement. He finishes his circuit by poking the end of Geralt's drawn sword, causing Adrin to chuckle.

"It's really him?" Jaskier asks, sounding astonished. "It's like he is a garden statue."

Adrin laughs again and walks over. "If only he had been obliging enough to attack me in the garden. Then we could enjoy him more appropriately." He curls an arm around Jaskier's back and pulls him close. "It's a basic stone curse. Makes the target into a completely impervious statue. No amount of magic or brute force can degrade or shatter it. Not terribly useful in most situations, but if you want to permanently be rid of a witcher, there is no better choice."

"Why's that?"

"Stone curses are relatively easy to cast and therefore relatively easy to break. All the cursed needs is a kiss from their True Love and they're back to normal, and quite angry about their ordeal. However, one doesn't have to worry about that with witchers," Adrin lets the comment hang.

"Oh!" Jaskier says with dawning realization, "because no one can love such a horrible mutant, there is no way to reverse the curse! You're incredibly clever," he compliments, looking up at Adrin.

"So I am," Adrin replies smugly.

"And you're certain you don't mind me staying for a while, at least until I can figure out what I am to do next?" Jaskier asks, unsure.

"Oh Pet, you are too sweet. I am happy to be your patron," he kisses Jaskier on the temple. "I will even get you a new lute when we travel to Novigrad. In the meantime, you can sing for me," Adrin smiles, "I am sure you have a lovely voice."

Jaskier smirks up at him, "I've been told that once or twice. Perhaps you will find me pleasing."

"I am certain I will. Shall we retire to my drawing room? I have a lovely bottle of Toussainti wine I think you will enjoy. We can deal with removing your former employer to an appropriate location in the hedge maze in the morning."

"Mmm, it has been a long time since I've enjoyed anything aside from common tavern ale." He glances back over his shoulder as Adrin steers them toward the exit, "it's not as if he is going anywhere."

"Certainly not," Adrin agrees, guiding Jaskier down the hall with an arm around his back. "At least he is handsome; he will be a fine addition to the decor. But outside, he takes up far too much room in the library."

"Which one is your drawing room?" Jaskier asks, looking down a hallway full of doors. 

"Last door on the left. The door on the right is my bedchamber. I also have an attached bathing chamber," he brags, "it is very convenient. There is little as satisfying as a nice long soak followed by slipping into a soft, comfortable bed."

"That does sound lovely," Jaskier comments. He is steered into an expensively furnished sitting room and encouraged to sit down onto a divan. In this room alone, Jaskier can identify patterns and silks from several regions of the Continent all brought together in a display of comfort and wealth.

Adrin smiles at him, carefully selecting a wine bottle from a display rack and uncorking it with a small rush of magic. "If you want a bath, you only have to ask, Pet. I know you have gotten used to rough treatment, but something as pretty as you should be pampered," he explains, holding out a crystal goblet full of a rich, red wine.

Careful not to spill the liquid, Jaskier accepts, swirling it a bit in the glass and smelling it to appreciate the fruity bouquet. "Is… this smells of apples?"

"As it should," Adrin settles himself next to Jaskier on the divan, ignoring the number of other seats in the room. He is sitting close enough that their knees brush. Taking a sip of the wine, he explains,"this type of wine is blended with mead made from apple blossom honey. It gives it a sweet flavour and dissipates some of the dryness found in Toussainti reds. I thought you would find it pleasing."

"I do!" Jaskier interjects; he doesn't want to seem ungrateful after all. In that vein, Jaskier turns his body toward Adrin as much as he can without pulling away, putting his back to the corner. "I just wasn't expecting the taste."

"That's good then, have as much as you like." He pats Jaskier's knee reassuringly and sips his own glass. "I have a personal relationship with the vintner, so I can easily obtain more. Have it blended to your taste even. If it would please you we can visit his vineyard; it is quite picturesque."

With Adrin watching intently, Jaskier takes a larger drink of his wine and earns an approving nod. "I think seeing a vineyard with you would be lovely, but I wouldn't want to impose."

"Julian, Pet, it's not an imposition in the slightest." He sets down his own glass on the side table and takes Jaskier's glass to refill it. "You have been through what I am sure is a terrible ordeal at the hands of that monster and probably something awful before that to be desperate enough to seek refuge with him." He hands Jaskier another full glass of wine. "You are too beautiful and much too sweet to endure such things so let me spoil you a little." He runs a hand over Jaskier's cheek and raises his eyebrows in silent question.

"Okay," Jaskier says quietly.

"That's settled then. I am afraid I must warn you, I have an unfortunate number of social obligations, and while the food and drink is often superb, the company can be a bit dull. Having you beside me will make them much less dull, if you wish to come." Adrin smiles and runs a hand over Jaskier's thigh, "I can have the loveliest clothes made for you. And I have some beautiful gemstones that will accent your lovely eyes. Everyone will be filled with envy that I have such a talented, attractive companion. You will have to get used to travelling by portal, but I'm sure you will do fine. It's superior to long trips on horseback."

Jaskier snorts. "He made me walk, wouldn't let me near that beast of a horse he rides." Jaskier looks over at Adrin and continues, "you know, he once punched me in the stomach for trying to pet her? Right here," he splays his hand over the area, "it hurt for weeks after."

"That mutant bastard is going to be much better use as decoration," Adrin grumbles, mostly to himself. He rearranges his face into something inviting and leans over to take Jaskier's again empty glass and set it to the side. "I promise I will take impeccable care of you," he says, sliding the hand on Jaskier's thigh all the way up to cup his crotch and knead gently.

If pressed, Jaskier would have to admit Adrin knows what he is doing. Jaskier finds himself growing warm. "Do you…" he gets distracted by a noise in the hall. Turning back he startles at the closeness of Adrin, "would you mind terribly if I took off my doublet? I think the wine is getting to me."

"Absolutely not, you do look a bit flushed." Adrin starts unbuttoning Jaskier himself. "Allow me," he insists, leaning in to suck the skin of Jaskier's neck as he works. Jaskier's eyes flick to the door and find nothing amiss.

When the doublet is undone, Adrin guides it off Jaskier's body and carefully sets it aside. Jaskier touches his neck, "it's fine Pet, nothing to be embarrassed by. Just a mark of passion." Adrin cups Jaskier's face, "I won't ever touch you with intent to harm."

Jaskier rubs the mark again, still looking a bit embarrassed. Adrin catches his hand lacing their fingers, "None of that now, I said not to worry." He moves forward, using his body to encourage Jaskier to lie back on the divan so he is closest to the wall. Adrin lays alongside, securely boxing him in. "It's just us tonight."

Jaskier's entire focus is narrowed down to the plushness of the divan beneath him and Adrin above him. Adrin kisses him, confident and sure, and Jaskier responds. Adrin keeps him occupied with kisses as he runs a hand down Jaskier's body and works on the laces of his trousers. He slips a hand inside and expertly fondles Jaskier over his small clothes.

"There you go, Pet. Enjoy it for me," Adrin breathes in Jaskier's ear, his clothed erection pushing insistently at Jaskier's hip. He runs his hand further back, circling one one finger over Jaskier's hole, the thin fabric keeping him from pushing in. "I am going to make you feel such pleasure."

"No, I don't think you will," Geralt growls out.

Jaskier sees a flash of steel as he slams his eyes shut and turns away. He feels the hot spatter of blood across his chest and face. When he turns back and opens his eyes, Geralt is hefting the headless corpse of the sorcerer off of Jaskier with one hand and throwing it to the other side of the room where it hits the wall with a thud. Geralt kicks the head viciously in the other direction. He probably dented the skull. 

"Thank the gods you came to, Love," Jaskier says in relief, remembering not to wipe the blood from his face onto his chemise. He doesn't want to make more work for himself cleaning additional blood spots from the fabric. He mentally congratulates himself for getting his doublet out of the spray's path. "I was starting to get worried I might actually have to fuck him while I was waiting for you."

Geralt snarls in response, wiping his sword on an expensive cushion and sheathing it.

"Don't get snippy with me, Geralt. I've fucked less attractive men for lower stakes." Jaskier holds his hand out and Geralt yanks him up and into his arms, without a care for blood spatter across Jaskier's body or his own armor. 

Geralt kisses him deeply, dipping Jaskier like the victorious White Knight in every children's fairytale. Jaskier's knees go a little weak and Geralt smirks, but holds him steady all the same. "Would've broken free faster if you had kissed me on the lips."

"Yes, but I was trying to avoid being detected by the sorcerer who cursed you in the first place. If I had been showy about it, he would've just killed me and you would be enacting revenge instead of rescuing your lover from his evil clutches. You want me alive don't you?" Jaskier pouts.

"Sometimes I wonder," Geralt teases. It would have sounded like a threat if anyone but Jaskier was listening.

"You're a terrible liar, darling. You love me." Geralt huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes, but doesn't disagree. "Anyway, my backup plan was to wait until Sorcerer Grab-Ass fell asleep and sneak over and have a go with your marble lips until you were capable of kissing me back."

"No," Geralt growls, "bad enough he did this." Geralt presses his thumb into the mark on Jaskier's neck.

"You can cover it up with a better one in a minute," Jaskier soothes, pressing into Geralt's hand, "but first, how are you feeling?"

"Itchy. Fucking dust is under everything," Geralt complains.

Jaskier pointedly brushes off Geralt's cheek. "Rather inconvenient that happens every time."

Geralt hums, content to let Jaskier brush the dust from his hair. "Did you see the girls?" 

"They made it to the village, all five of them. You did send five correct? They said they were the only ones."

Geralt nods. "I sent five. Came in through the dungeons and sent them to safety before coming to the house for that bastard. There was a sixth but she was dead long before we even heard of a need in this town," he finishes regretfully. 

"Hey," Jaskier cups Geralt's face, "you saved everyone that it was possible to save. The two you sent on Roach will need a healer and it will be a slow process, but they  _ will _ heal. They have that opportunity because of you. Everyone welcomed them back with open arms. One of the men already started off to the next town to fetch the healer to help."

"Fucking bastard, wish I could kill him again," Geralt glares at the headless corpse. 

"Well, short of necromancy that isn't possible, and no one is doing that. So, what we  _ are _ going to do is go across the hall and enjoy what was previously his luxurious bathing chamber and what is sure to be an array of exotic and expensive bathing oils. We are also going to drink the rest of this wine because it is delicious and I want to. Then we are going to go get in what was his equally luxurious and ostentatious bed and I am going to ride you so hard you beg for mercy."

"I never beg for mercy," Geralt interjects.

"Yes you do; shut up," Jaskier pokes Geralt's chest. "As I was saying before I was _so_ _rudely_ interrupted, we are going to have amazing sex in the bed he intended to have what would've likely been mediocre sex with me, and sleep like babes after throughly defiling the entire thing. And in the morning, we are going to have a lie-in and then go through all his expensive stuff and take a completely reasonable amount, which given what I have seen so far will set us up for months."

Jaskier pauses to do some quick estimation. "I mean, if we just take the jewelry off his body, we can probably buy you all new armor, both of us boots, and at least three outfits for me. There is so much here, there is no reason not to take what we can. We can let the villagers deal with selling off and distributing the proceeds from what's left, including all of the larger items and doing something with the estate itself. Mathew is a good man and will treat everyone fairly. Actually, he will probably still try and pay you so we will have to tell him we took our fee from this bastard's estate. His sister was the one who led Roach back, by the way. "

Geralt, who had been nodding along with Jaskier's plans for wealth distribution, stops and cocks his head. "Where is Roach?"

"Happy as a clam, stabled comfortably with Mathew's horses. She looked exhausted so I let her rest. I headed here without her once it had been an hour or so with no sign of you. Helped sell the 'I actually hate the Witcher so I could never, ever break the curse you laid upon him' sob story. Figured the sorcerer would choose that one. They all do. It's like they teach it at Ban Ard or something: _ How To Get Rid of a Witcher, 101 _ ."

"Hmm," Geralt agrees. 

"So what do you say, Love? Bath, wine, and fucking until we pass out?"

"Yes."

  


**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER SUMMARY: Creepy Sorcerer OC tries to take advantage of Jaskier, including kissing, inappropriate touching, and offering to make Jaskier a kept man in exchange for implied sexual favors. Jaskier plays along, acting reluctant, but is actually manipulating the sorcerer to buy time until his kiss wakes Geralt from the curse. Geralt, of course, arrives in time to save the day.


End file.
